What If
by Ringo05
Summary: A humorous collection of one shots from wandering minds. Anything can happen...


_A/N: I will be writing a collection of one shots with the help of MissVampyre. These will all be based on the Tortall Realm, but may contain any number of characters from any of the series._

_Standard Disclaimer Applies, I am not Tamora Pierce._

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"Jon, you can't be serious. Are you sure you have thought this through?"

"Yes, Numair. What could go wrong? I am merely asking that you let Kitten be our University mascot. Where's the harm?"

"You have no idea. You don't know her as well as I do. There'll be trouble before the day's end, that's for sure."

"Nonsense! She needs something to keep her busy. And besides, what better mascot than the most powerful immortal known to man?"

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."

This is going to be good, Numair thought with a smirk. By the end of the jousting tournament he could only imagine the damage a small dragon could make. Especially when that dragon was Kitten. Alanna didn't call her "Little Devil" for nothing.

* * *

The tournament was tomorrow and Numair was on his way to the market in Corus. Daine was at home teaching Kitten the cheers while he was sent out to get her some flags and streamers to wave around.

He eventually found the perfect stand. The young woman behind the counter was shouting, "Party supplies!" all up and down the street in hopes of someone needing a pointy hat, a card, or perhaps a few firecrackers.

"Hello good sir, and how can I help you today?" she asked with a smile.

"I need some streamers, and a few flags please."

"And what color would you like?"

"Blue, white, silver… any of the Tortallan colors."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but those colors are hard to come by. I'm afraid I can't just be giving them to anybody. Unless, of course, you're willing to pay the price."

Numair couldn't believe it. She was trying to rip him off! This was not acceptable.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No I don't, but no matter who you are, unless you are willing to pay the price. Otherwise I can't help you," she said, clearly annoyed.

"I am Numair Salmalin, black robe mage, and if you don't give me my streamers I will turn you into a tree!"

Did he really just say that? Oh no. He may have gone a little too far.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir! If I had known it was you sir, I would have given them to you sir!"

"Oh stop all the 'sir'ing, alright. Just give me my flags and streamers and I'll be on my way."

"Yes, of course. Here are your blue and silver streamers and flags, just as you requested. And no charge for our Master Mage."

She was now stumbling over her words and her voice had risen to quite a loud level. By now everyone on the street had turned their heads toward Numair. He could only imagine the picture in their heads right now of him dancing around with flashy flags and streamers.

"Thank you," he mumbled, and stalked off. By tomorrow morning word would have made it through Corus and everyone would come expecting him to do a dance routine on the jousting field.

* * *

When Numair walked into the room he didn't even notice Daine and Kitten standing in the middle of the room. He had eyes only for his books strewn carelessly all over the floor.

"What happened?"

"Well, she got a little excited and things got a little crazy," Daine explained with a sheepish grin.

"A little?!"

"Oh, Numair, don't get upset. Nothing was damaged. Here, we'll just pick them up right now."

By the time the room had been restored to order it was nearly dark. After enjoying a hearty feast with friends Numair was ready to go to sleep and put the day behind him.

The next morning was spent in preparation for the tournament. Daine and Kitten reviewed the routine one last time while Numair and George helped Jon with ensuring that everything was in place. At midmorning Numair went back to their rooms to change clothes and to make any last minute changes to the plan. Kitten donned a blue grass skirt and was running around the room waving flags and streamers while tossing silver confetti in the air.

"Is everything ready?"

"I think so. Are you ready Kit?" Daine asked.

The small dragon trilled a reply and spun in a circle. As they headed to the field the crowds were already filling the stands and the riders were warming up in the training ring. Daine led Kitten to the Queen's tent while Numair found a seat. Not long after Daine returned the trumpeter sounded his call and the first riders trotted into the ring. Raoul of Goldenlake easily unseated his opponent as the crowd erupted into cheers. After the knights had left the ring Kitten darted from Thayet's tent, throwing confetti as she went. Upon reaching the center ground she performed a well-practiced cartwheel and squealed with joy as she ran back to the tent. As the audience was laughing and praising Kitten, Numair couldn't help but overhear the women sitting in front of him.

"Well, what a surprise! Rosaline said the mage Numair was going to perform," one of them said.

"Oh, you can't trust anything she says," the other replied.

"No, no, she assured me that the Master Mage Numair Salmalin came to her yesterday and demanded streamers and flags for today's tournament."

"Hmm, maybe there will be a surprise show later on," she replied with a giggle.

Blushing furiously Numair glanced at Daine. With horror, he realized he wasn't the only one listening to the women's chatter.

"What are they talking about?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing, nothing…just the idle gossip of court ladies. Nothing to worry about."

"Well? _Are_ we going to get to see you dance?"

"No!" he yelled in exasperation, his face flushing more than he thought possible. Daine, laughing, returned her attention to the riders.

* * *

A while later, after another round of jousting, Kitten came out of the tent for her next round of fun. She then proceeded into an intricate pattern of jumps, twists, and flips, with intermittent chirps of joy. Just as she stuck her final somersault, someone in the crowd screamed.

"On her back! It's on her back!"

_What's on her back?! _Numair thought, now on the edge of panic.

Then he saw it. Clinging to Kitten's back and creeping across her scales was a black blob.

_Darking._

By now, Kitten had realized people were pointing at her, more specifically her back. As she spun in circles trying in vain to see, the darking wrapped itself around her wing. Thoroughly alarmed, she was trying to slap her back. As she screamed, fire and smoke poured out of her muzzle. Daine had seen the darking and was running down the stairs, Numair close on her heels. The horses were spooked by the dragon's outrage and were rearing on their riders. As Daine tried to quiet the mounts, her running became desperate. The grass skirt was now ablaze as Kitten rolled on the ground in an attempt to shake the creature free.

"Kitten, stop!" Daine yelled.

Thankfully the dragon obeyed.

As Daine plucked the darking from its stronghold, Numair used his Gift to extinguish the flames. Breathing a sigh of relief, Numair chanced a glance at the audience. But there wasn't one. They had evacuated the stands and the only observers were a stunned Jon, Thayet, George, and Alanna. Even Onua had gone, probably to help with the horses.

"See Kitten, it won't hurt you. It's only a darking." Daine explained to the trembling dragon. Curious, Kitten reached out a paw to poke the creature. Kitten cocked her head in wonder as the darking giggled in delight.

"Tickles!" it squeaked.

"What in the world possessed you to scare Kitten like that?" Daine asked it.

"Fun, fun!" it squeaked in reply.

Suddenly suspicious, Numair asked, "Who put you up to it?"

"Numair!" Daine cried in disbelief.

"King, King. King say," and then its voice changed to resemble Jon's, "Show Numair."

"What?!" Daine, now thoroughly confused looked back and forth between the darking and Numair. "What is it talking about?"

Quickly scanning the area Numair saw that Jon had conveniently vanished. Stalking towards the palace, he caught just a glimpse of the King's cloak as he turned a corner.

"Jonathon Bartholomew Conte! How _dare_ you?"

"Correction, Numair. My name is Jonathon Bartholomew _of _Conte. I'd thought you'd known me long enough to at least know my name."

"That is NOT the point. The point is that you sent a darking to tamper with Kitten's cheering."

"Oh, but Numair, I thought you like being right," Jon explained with a smirk. "You yourself said that I would regret asking. That there would be a disaster. And you were right, there was."

"So you did all this, just to prove me _right_?!"

"Exactly."

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_Hope you enjoyed. Review, review, review!_


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